


Insubstantial

by Keiko Kirin (sakana17)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-20
Updated: 2003-08-20
Packaged: 2017-10-03 18:35:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakana17/pseuds/Keiko%20Kirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel looks for ways to help Jack. Set in Season 6.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insubstantial

**Author's Note:**

> An unbelievable amount of thanks are due Thevetia, Destina, The Wild Mole, and X for all of their tremendous and much needed help.

_He's gone_.

His words to Carter echoed in Jack's mind as he prepared for the mission. Well, what had she expected? They both knew the score. They had both lost people before. Friends.

Loved ones.

The point was, life didn't stop for the living. The United States Air Force didn't take a few weeks off to mourn. The SGC didn't grind to a halt. The threats out there didn't politely recede in order to give them time to grieve. Carter knew that.

_He's gone_.

The phrase lingered. Teased him and haunted him. A simple statement of fact, but Jack kept returning to it, putting the words solidly into thought and trying to make it into something concrete. Something with substance. Something he could put to one side and wall up forever.

Jack paused in lacing up his boots. And now Thor was apparently gone, too. Their best ally, no offense to Jacob. What next? Jack didn't want to think about it. Instead he thought about Freyr's intell on the planet where the Asgard scientist was stranded, about firepower, about the known limits to their repaired Goa'uld cargo ship.

Until the words returned: he's gone.

Jack zipped up his jacket and closed the door to his locker. The locker next to his caught his gaze. It had already been cleaned out. It was just an empty space behind an ordinary metal door.

Jack reached over and touched the handle. He rested his fingers there for a few seconds before letting them drop.

_He's gone_.

\-----

Rules? There were rules?

Daniel couldn't help but think that this wasn't exactly what Oma Desala had promised him. But then, she hadn't promised him anything. This was _his_ journey. And apparently his journey was going to be more constrained than Oma's.

He wanted to meet these Others and find out exactly how they intended to enforce their rules. Daniel had already discovered a few gifts -- powers which would prove useful against the Goa'uld and anyone else who messed with SG-1, Earth, Abydos, the Jaffa rebellion, the Tok'ra... But Oma made it clear, the gifts were not to be used that way. It was the rule of the Others.

She took him to Velona. They took on corporeal guises and wandered through the ruins. "The rule was broken," she said simply.

Daniel looked around at the devastation the Others had caused and thought of all the lives lost. Nothing left. Not even ghosts. "Orlin only did what he thought was right," he said.

They reached the weapon. Daniel could remember standing close to this place with Jack and Teal'c. Memories now were both long distant and immediate. He was living on universe time, where everything was immeasurably ancient yet happening so fast.

Oma looked at him, imperious and amused. "Then would you be their savior, as Orlin was? Would you bring their enemies to their knees? Obliterate them from being? Become their savior and their god?"

"No! No... But there has to be another way. Something in between _this_ and becoming a god."

It unnerved him that every time Oma instructed him, the lesson ended up being about Daniel taking power. He didn't think he was power-hungry. He had abilities; he wanted to use them. He wanted to help. He had thought she would understand.

Oma stood at the entrance to the weapon. "There is something in between. A very thin line we must all travel."

Yes, yes, he got that. Really. For however long he'd been ascended (universe time was impossible to track; he felt like he was going backward and forward and standing still all at the same moment) he had been learning this lesson. When were they going to move on to Chapter Two: Striking Down Armies of Jaffa With Lightning Bolts?

Oma left him on Velona, and he wandered around the ruins for a while, knowing that he should be thinking about the line Orlin had crossed and the horrible price he had paid. Instead, his thoughts kept turning into memories. The faces he missed seeing. The voices he missed hearing.

It must have been a while now. It wasn't like he had abused his power, because they hadn't known the gust of wind down the corridor had been him. Well, Sam and Teal'c hadn't known. Jack had known -- of course Jack had known -- but Jack had kept it to himself. Of course Jack had kept it to himself.

Daniel didn't want to stay on Velona any longer. He understood. Really. Orlin crossed the line. Orlin was punished. And the Others' means of punishment were tragic and cruel. Lesson learned.

He let go of his corporeal form and dissipated, and oh, how he wished he could tell his friends about this. It was like being in the wormhole, only a wormhole the size of the galaxy, and the ride was smooth as silk, and he was aware the whole time, of things he never knew existed. He wished he could take Jack on a ride this way. It wasn't just looking at the stars, it was feeling them. Knowing them. Being a part of them.

On the other hand, Daniel thought with amused affection, Jack would probably say he'd rather enjoy the stars from his telescope.

Daniel flowed through a star and felt its core of energy. The deep dead of space was all around him, and once Jack could have died here and would have been part of this emptiness. Jack and Teal'c both had almost died here. He remembered the smile Sam had shared when they had found them just in time.

What were his friends doing now? Whose butt had they kicked today? Which corner of the universe had they just saved while he was drifting through stars?

It had been a while, and it wasn't like he was breaking any rules...

They were on Earth. Sam was working with a team of engineers, hunched over schematics and reports in her lab. He was struck by how tired she looked. Had she ever looked like that before? Tired and edgy. She ran a hand through her hair and cut off an engineer's apologetic explanation, going into crisp Major Carter mode.

The engineer she'd cut off turned to a colleague and muttered something unflattering and uncalled for. He was holding a few diagrams, pointing at one with his pen, while his colleague nodded sagely, only half-hearing what Sam was trying her best to explain. Daniel tossed a little breeze at the engineer's papers, making them scatter before moving on.

Teal'c was in the weight room, spotting for Jonas Quinn. Daniel felt a pang of nostalgia. He remembered being here with Teal'c doing the same for him. Had he talked as much as Jonas did, breathless but wide-eyed with enthusiasm? No, he didn't think he had. He would have noticed Teal'c's lack of response, surely. Besides, Jonas was wide-eyed and enthusiastic about Earth and weather and food and pretty nurses. All the little things Daniel had taken for granted, because it was all part of being alive.

He observed Teal'c's patience and calm understanding, and keenly missed it. He could almost speak, reach out and ask Teal'c how he was doing, just to hear Teal'c's deep voice intone, "I am well, Daniel Jackson."

He left them and drifted through the SGC, checking to see that General Hammond was in that familiar space: the briefing room. Meeting with a new SG team whose faces Daniel had no memory of. It was interesting to see how different Hammond was with them. Pointed and authoritarian, explaining to them firmly why he expected only the very best from them. But they understood, these new faces. They wanted to be the very best for General Hammond, for SGC, for Earth.

He found Doctor Fraiser in her office, taking a break, and he was delighted to see that she was reading a trashy novel while munching on an apple and sipping Diet Coke. He'd always suspected her of having a secret life, hidden from all this dreary Air Force green and grey and blue.

There was a photo of Cassie on her desk, looking even older and very much a flowering young woman. 'Flowering?' He'd picked that up from Janet's novel, he noted as he skimmed himself through the pages and absorbed its words. Pretty racy stuff to be reading on base, although in the end it was all wonderfully romantic with a true Hollywood ending.

Jack wasn't in the SGC, so Daniel rose through the mountain, seeing all the layers and levels he'd never seen while he worked here. The NORAD part, super top secret but looking pretty unglamorous and boring.

It had been a gorgeous day. The sky was clear and changing color as the sun began to sink. Jack's house was dark inside. The blinds and curtains were shut.

Jack was in bed, on his back, one arm flung over his eyes and one knee elevated on a stack of cushions. And... Oh crap, what the hell had Jack done to himself this time? Daniel had lost count in the inventory of Jack's injuries, but he was certain this was a new one. That knee didn't look like any normal human knee.

Jack was asleep, just barely. He was tense. Daniel watched how his fingers twitched. There was a bottle of painkillers next to the bed, but Jack had once told him they never did any damn good, his body was so wrecked.

He couldn't stand to see Jack like this, in pain, in bed. That memory was too close. Daniel felt useless. He should go back to the ruins of Velona, since he couldn't help. Unless...

He had never tried to go inside a body before. Maybe he could see what was causing the pain. He wasn't sure what he could do about it, but maybe there was something wrong with Jack's knee that the doctors hadn't fixed. They could have missed something. If they had, maybe there was a way he could help that wouldn't break the Others' rules.

He sank down into Jack, carefully not thinking about the memories assaulting him, and then the memories were gone because he was someplace new. It was dark and red and wet, with solid hulking bones held together by thick, corded muscles. He'd always liked that movie "The Fantastic Voyage" when he was younger. Too bad it hadn't gone into how to diagnose damaged knees.

There was the knee, and it looked even worse from inside. Was it normal for everything to be so crowded and fluid? Was the knee cap in the right place? There were precise holes drilled into the thigh and shin bones, and something had been threaded through behind the knee cap. The doctors had probably done all they could. So he was useless after all.

Unless there was a way to help after all. Daniel brought all his energy into focus, concentrating it on the knee, trying to find where the pressure needed to be relieved. But he was out of his depth here. If Oma and her kind -- his kind -- could do this sort of thing, Oma had never mentioned it. In his concentrated state, he travelled through the bones and ligaments before he had to admit he had no idea what he was looking for. He dissipated again and rose up out of Jack.

And Jack was sleeping soundly. His arm was lowered, resting over his chest, and his head tilted to one side. He was breathing deeply, and he looked so peaceful. So calm. So beautiful.

Daniel didn't know what he'd done, and it occurred to him that this might be the kind of interference Oma was always cautioning him about. He didn't see how letting Jack get a good night's sleep would spell the downfall of civilization, but it was probably better if he didn't stick around and risk getting caught.

Besides, it disturbed him to see Jack like this: at rest, at peace, in bed. It filled him with sadness and longing -- the very emotions he wasn't supposed to have anymore, or so he'd thought.

He had to let go. He let go and drifted away from Earth, and joined the galaxy again.

\-----

_He's gone_.

Jack opened his eyes and let them adjust to the darkness. He was tired of waking up thinking about Daniel. Daniel was gone. It had been three months now. Jack thought he had finally exorcised whatever demons invaded his sleep, but no. Here he was again, opening his eyes with the sense memory of Daniel haunting him.

It wasn't even a good memory. That was the thing. It had been a wretched, awkward mistake.

No. That wasn't exactly correct. There was a good memory. An all-too-brief one, but it was there, bundled with all the other crap around it.

Crap like Reese. Daniel in pain, in tears even, on the floor. Breaking down. Jack had known the signs, dammit, but he hadn't wanted to see them. Not in Daniel.

Daniel was strong. Daniel survived. Daniel was tough. Daniel could take it. But not this time, almost. On the edge. About to fall over.

Jack's thinking had been along the lines of: _if he has to fall over, let him fall on me. Let me pick him up_. After all, they'd done this before. When Daniel had been under an alien influence, sure, but to Jack's mind, this was the same deal. Daniel was under an alien influence with Reese, just a different kind of influence.

After the SGC was secure, Jack had returned to the gate room, and Daniel hadn't moved. Two SF's were there to remove the robot. Jack touched Daniel's shoulder and said, "Come on. Let's go."

Daniel rose and moved sluggishly, like he wanted to resist but didn't. Jack left him in the infirmary, returned to find one of the nurses finishing the bandage around his wrist.

"I want to be alone," Daniel said as he left the infirmary.

"I know you do," Jack said, and didn't leave him alone. Not really. He pulled back, but kept Daniel in his periphery.

Daniel got into his car and just sat there, staring ahead, his bandaged hand laying uselessly in his lap. Jack opened the driver's side door and said, "I'll drive you."

"Jack, I really want to be alone," Daniel said, but he left his car and got into Jack's truck. He didn't protest when Jack drove to his house instead of taking him home. By then Daniel was ready for a beer, ready to sit in Jack's company without speaking and fall asleep on Jack's couch, an ice pack around his unbandaged wrist.

Jack wanted to help, but he wasn't good at this stuff. He wanted to soothe Daniel, get him to unshoulder some of that burden, but no, Daniel was tough. Tough even in sleep, with his head falling forward, frowning.

Jack couldn't stand it. Why couldn't Daniel just fall off the edge and get it over with? Jack was here to catch him. Daniel had to know that, right? There was no one else either of them could turn to. Lashing out, forgiving, or comforting -- they had to do it together.

He reached out and touched Daniel's hair. Brushed it back from his forehead and rubbed the back of his head. Daniel relaxed perceptibly, and before Jack knew what he was doing, he was bringing Daniel into his arms, to hold him while he slept. Thinking this said weird things about their relationship, but all Jack wanted was for Daniel to relax and get the sleep he needed so he could wake up tomorrow, tough and surviving and able to take it.

Daniel wasn't asleep. He was holding on, his right arm tight around Jack's middle. He said against Jack's chest, "I hate what you did. I hate that it had to come to that."

Jack stroked Daniel's back. He took a deep breath and released it. "I know."

And that was all that was said, until Daniel seemed more like himself again. He lifted his hand from the ice pack. "This is killing me." He was hunched over to hold on, and his legs were bent awkwardly for balance. "Is there somewhere I can stretch out?"

Jack patted his shoulder. "There's the bed," he offered without thinking.

"Okay." Daniel stood up, wincing as he tried flexing his fingers.

At the time, it honestly hadn't occurred to Jack what they were doing. It seemed like they were getting something from this, like they were repairing whatever had been about to break. He wanted to hold onto Daniel just like Daniel was holding onto him. Briefly he thought, _What if it's I who's falling?_

They moved to Jack's bed, on top of the covers. It was more comfortable than the couch, and Daniel kicked off his shoes before he curled up in Jack's arms. He rested his left hand, still cold from the ice, on Jack's chest. Jack touched his fingers to heat them, patted his hair and shoulder and back and under the warm weight of him began to doze. He drifted in and out of sleep with his arms around Daniel, and Daniel's breath touching his skin through his shirt, until once he woke up in the dark and Daniel was there, and they kissed.

They kissed for a long time. Hours, maybe. Long and deep and hungry. Starving. Daniel held him tightly, even with his damaged wrist, and kissed him hard, and Jack felt again that they were repairing something. Whatever needed to happen, they would make it happen. They would pick up the pieces together.

They kissed for so long. Jack's jaw ached, his arms ached, his balls ached, and his lips felt hot and swollen. And he didn't care, none of that mattered as long as they kissed and he could taste and feel Daniel's hunger and hold onto Daniel as tightly as Daniel was holding onto him.

That was the good memory.

Why was he thinking about it now? Three damn months. Life went on for the living. The ones left behind. The ones who had to let go.

It wasn't fair to be haunted like this, Jack thought as he pushed himself up off the bed. He carefully kept his weight off his busted knee until he was standing. He paused, and took a couple of steps.

The knee actually felt better this morning. That was a good sign. Maybe things were moving forward. Life was moving forward.

Without Daniel.

\-----

Daniel stayed away as long as he could, but the truth was, the longer he stayed where he was supposed to stay, observing and being useless, the more this particular journey was beginning to pall. This had not been what he had in mind when he decided he could do more.

On the other hand, not a whole lot he could do dead from radiation poisoning. Or little better than a vegetable not even a Tok'ra could heal. So being ascended had its upside, he supposed.

That wasn't fair. It was wonderful in unexpected ways. Indescribably wonderful to be energy in the universe, connected but apart from everything else. Indescribable, and he didn't have anyone to describe it to, anyway.

It was night on Earth. Daniel made the rounds. Sam was sleeping. So was Hammond. Teal'c was alone in his quarters reading a history of World War I. Janet was up worrying about Cassie being out so late. Cassie was stretched out on the hood of a car with two friends and they were talking about their dreams and hopes and frustrations while they watched the stars.

Jack was asleep on the couch with the TV on. An infomercial for rejuvenating skin cream flickered over him, sound down low. Daniel noted the way he was hunkered up on the couch and knew that couldn't be good for his aches and pains. He worried about that knee. Had it healed yet? In universe time, Daniel couldn't tell if it had been hours or months since he'd been back here.

He drifted through the television, sending its signal into a burst of static. Jack jerked awake with a scowl and switched the TV set off. He sat up and scrubbed his fingers through his hair, then rose to his feet, stretched his back, and padded off to the bedroom.

Daniel knew he should leave. Jack was doing okay. He still walked stiffly, but otherwise he was typical Jack. Tough as nails and as broken in as old boots. Daniel couldn't help himself. He eased back through the house and into the bedroom. Just a final check. Make sure Jack got back to sleep okay.

The bedside lamp was on, and Jack was standing at his dresser. One of the drawers was open, and Jack was reaching inside. He pulled something out, something small, and held it in his hands. Daniel stared at it in shock. It was an ornamental blunt dagger Daniel had used as a letter opener in his office. There had been something about the shape of the handle that begged to be held. He used to toy with it. Jack had used to toy with it. Daniel had never thought anything of it.

Jack had taken it and brought it here. He wasn't playing with it now. He was touching it. Running his fingers over the carved hilt, gliding his thumb down the flat of the blade. If Daniel hadn't known how blunt it was, he'd be worried about what Jack might do with it, but Jack replaced the dagger carefully, on top of a pile of neatly folded shirts in colors Daniel had never seen Jack wear: red, and a blue checked one, and a brown checked one, and a greyish blue.

"Daniel."

Daniel startled to hear Jack say his name. Afraid he'd been seen somehow, he rose up and over the house. But he wasn't glowing. He hadn't lost contol and unleashed his energy without knowing. He sank back down and saw Jack close the dresser drawer, and realized Jack had spoken his name to himself.

Jack would want him to leave. Would want to be alone. Wouldn't he? Daniel wasn't sure. Jack had said his name. Trying to bring him here? Invoke him? Speaking to ghosts?

Jack stretched out on the bed, on top of the covers. The memory was too close, but Daniel stayed. Jack sighed and closed his eyes and slid one hand into his undershorts. It cupped and moved under the fabric.

Okay. He really should leave. Jack wouldn't want him here for this. But Jack looked so... unhappy. His face was tight and tense. Like he resented what he was doing and that his body would respond to it. He pushed his undershorts out of the way, and his hand was moving fast, fist wrapped hard around his shaft. Jack winced. He looked angry.

No. Oh, no. Daniel couldn't watch this, couldn't stand this.

Useless. He was useless like this. Unless... whatever he'd done for the damaged knee. Still had no idea what he'd done then, but he'd done something. Jack had felt something. Maybe he could do it again, make Jack feel something other than anger, resentment, and unhappiness.

It was tricky, though. He might glow when he concentrated his energy. He drifted underneath the bed, focused, and rose up through the layers and into Jack. Somewhere in his thigh, above the bad knee. He let go a little, let his focus extend and spread to Jack's other thigh. Passed through Jack's balls, imagining Jack's reaction if he ever found out about this: "You went inside my _balls_? I was molested by a glowing light?"

Then Daniel sank deep into the veins and arteries and found nerve endings inside the skin, and he was so fascinated by the complexity of it all that he didn't realize Jack had come until Jack's body relaxed completely, and the blood rush slowed.

Daniel carefully sank lower, back into the bed before he dissipated and drifted out. And there was Jack, messy, sweaty, breathing deeply, and relaxed. He looked as he had after Daniel had gone through his knee: peaceful, calm, and beautiful.

Daniel knew that he had to leave. Wasn't he supposed to be above temptation? He didn't even have a body. How could he have cravings?

Then again, what did it matter? He loved Jack. He would love him with his body if he had one. All he had was his soul and his energy, so he loved Jack with those.

He had known he loved Jack before he'd ascended, but he hadn't thought about how much, how thoroughly. He'd avoided thinking like that, in fact, after their night together. It hurt to love that much. So open with each other, baring everything to each other, so exposed. It hadn't mattered at the time that it was safe to be open and exposed with Jack. Daniel had thought, in his mortal folly, that it was irrelevant.

What a fool. What a blind, jackass fool. And oh, the pathetic irony of it now, Daniel thought. He couldn't even remember what it had felt like. He had no body to remember touch, to remember Jack's kisses and Jack's hands. And at the time, he had been so wrapped up in his own worries, his own pain, his own fears, that he hadn't let the experience linger. He hadn't tried to capture for memory every sensation he could. For someone so worried about the future of their relationship, Daniel had certainly been pretty damned short-sighted.

And now he was... walking that thin line, he supposed, although in the grand scheme of things, this seemed an awfully small transgression. If it even was one. Jack was certainly more peaceful and relaxed now, and that had to be a good thing.

Still. It was time to go. After a long, final look, Daniel left.

\-----

_He's gone_.

Jack tried to hold onto that thought, make it concrete, even while trying to exorcise his demons through raw, empty sexual release. But instead, for a brief moment after he came, before falling into sleep, he felt so warm and secure. Held and safe and open.

That unnerved him. Daniel was gone. There was no warmth or security, no place to be safe and open. No one to hold him. He had to move on. Get past this.

It wasn't like they'd been lovers or anything. Not even with that one night.

He took a quick shower and tried to move his thoughts away from that night, but it was old, worn ground by now, and his mind travelled down the familiar path. Kissing Daniel, clutching him, feeling Daniel's hunger and aching from it, not aware (yet) that half that hunger was his own. They had to keep falling, together, until they hit the ground and could help each other up.

So they fell. Got naked. Kissed and touched and got off on it. It was new and weird but felt right. Felt like something they had to do.

His mind paused where it always did. That one pure Daniel moment, when Daniel had looked at Jack as if surprised and said, "Oh god, Jack, I think I'm going to--" and came. And not just some weak squirt or two. Nope, he came rather impressively, shooting over Jack's stomach and chest, and that was pretty cool in a kind of raunchy, homosexual way. Until they'd both moved at the same time and blammo. One in the face. On Jack's chin. Daniel just looked at him, dazed. Mouth open and he looked pretty stupid that way. Except he'd just come hard, so he looked pretty sexy, too. But before Jack could say anything or even wipe the gunk off, Daniel was all over him, licking the stuff and kissing Jack deeply.

_Because of you_, Jack thought, _I tasted another guy's come. I tasted **your** come. Before you up and died on me. Ascended. What-fucking-ever_.

No. That was being unfair. Daniel had been short on options, had taken the path he thought was best. Jack hoped that whatever the hell that path was, it was working out for him. Because sometimes, it sucked to be left on this path. Alone without your dead/ascended friend, and missing him like hell, and still loving his miserable little soul with every atom of your being.

And the kicker was, Jack had known. That night, after they'd had sex and gotten all that pent-up, passionate energy out of their systems, Jack's first thought had been, _I love this man_. In bits and pieces, he'd always known, but now it added up. He loved Daniel. Daniel was his friend, so of course he loved him. They'd just had sex, but it was something they had to get out of the way. Now they could move on. It had sounded so simple and so right to Jack at the time.

Then Daniel had said, "I should go." He'd paused, looked lost for a moment, knitting his brow, then said again, "I should go. Just. You know."

Jack had nodded. Yes, it had seemed right that Daniel should go. It wasn't like they were lovers or anything. They were friends who loved each other.

What a bunch of bullshit.

Jack stalked into the kitchen naked, started the coffee going. They were friends who loved each other passionately, who held each other as if afraid to let go, who'd kissed each other half the night. _Buy a fucking clue_, he wished he could go back and tell himself. Or tell Daniel. Tell one of them -- probably Daniel, because he was more amenable to believing unbelievable things -- before they both backed away and said goodbye with awkward little smiles in Jack's truck. Daniel had walked into his apartment building, holding his wrist and not looking back. Jack had stared at the empty, pre-dawn street before he pulled away from the curb.

Jack sank down into one of the hard wooden dining chairs and held his head. For a moment he had felt warm, held, and secure. He had felt like he could reach out and touch Daniel, feel his skin again, taste him again, absorb him through breath and sweat.

It was all illusion, dreams without substance. Revisionist memories.

_He's gone_.

\-----

There had to be a line Daniel wouldn't cross, and surely this was it. At times, he wondered if the idea had come to him on its own, anyway. Or if Oma had discovered what he'd done for Jack and had planted the idea there herself, as a test. It would be the kind of thing she would do.

But when they met, Oma didn't seem to be aware that he'd visited Earth. And Jack hadn't known Daniel had been there, so no lines had been crossed, right? Maybe that was it. Was it creepier to have done this to Jack when Jack was unaware that Daniel was there? But he couldn't just appear in Jack's kitchen in corporeal form and say, _hello, let me glow through your body and tell you how I feel_. That would freak Jack out.

There was somewhere that wasn't quite awareness: dreams. They could be together there, aware of each other. He had gone inside Jack's body, and he could go inside Jack's mind. The lack of barriers frightened him. What if he got in there and did something awful to Jack, and Oma showed up and chastized Daniel for having a god complex? Poor Jack.

Even if it wasn't a test from Oma, was this really something it was all right to do? The line Daniel was treading became very thin at this point. Invading Jack's dream, even for the right reasons -- wasn't that trespassing?

He was sure he had the right reasons, though. He had seen Jack's loneliness and resentment. He had seen Jack in pain, in bed. The memory so close, it had never left.

After they had been together that night, as the ramifications had sunk in, Daniel had pulled back. Too exposed, too open, and it was confusing. He loved Jack so much it hurt, and he was tired of hurting and tired of hurting Jack with his own pain. Simpler if he left, and in the morning, they could resume in normal mode. So he had said, "I should go."

The look on Jack's face had almost crushed him completely. But he hadn't known what to do to make the pain go away, so he'd said again, "I should go. Just. You know." Hoping Jack did know, and relieved when Jack nodded. Jack understood. Daniel had been confused as hell, but it had been all right because Jack understood.

Jack would understand now, Daniel thought. At least he would understand why Daniel was tempted. What Daniel was craving. It might reassure Jack in some way to know that Daniel loved him, thoroughly and passionately and forever, even as energy, even across the galaxy. That couldn't be a bad thing, could it?

Daniel debated with himself for some span of universe time. It could have been years or a nanosecond, it was impossible to tell. When he finally decided to do it, it was unnervingly easy. He just stepped into Jack's mind, and there he was, inside a dream. For a moment he wondered what he'd do if Jack were dreaming about being with a pair of busty red-haired women, but then he knew what he'd do, and he had to wonder if he'd always had slightly kinky voyeuristic tendencies or if this was something that had manifested itself since he'd been ascended and spent all his time observing.

Well, it didn't seem to be that kind of dream, anyway. He was outside, in a field. It looked like a farm. There was an old barn up ahead. The grass was tall, going brown and brittle. Daniel looked down at himself to check that he was in corporeal guise, and jeez, this was the best he could do? He remembered this sweater. He'd never worn it without a shirt before. Maybe it looked better this way.

Okay. This wasn't a date. He was only here to see Jack. Tell him he loved him or something like that. He'd play it by ear.

Daniel walked up to the barn and turned the corner and saw Jack digging a hole. Jack was dressed in his BDUs and black t-shirt with his utility vest over it, and he was grimy and sweaty like he'd been working hard. He didn't notice Daniel and kept digging, pushing the shovel into the ground with his foot and tossing the dirt aside onto a mound. The hole was fairly deep and wide.

Daniel came closer, careful not to disturb Jack just yet. The hole was big enough to hold a person. As Daniel noticed this, he looked around and spotted a shape in the grass nearby. He walked over to it. A body wrapped in white. Tightly, like a mummy, except there were holes for the eyes, nose, and mouth. Blood had leaked out of all the holes and dried. Daniel didn't have to unwrap the bandages to see who it was. He remembered this. Just barely because so much of him had been with Oma at the time. But he remembered enough.

"Jack," he said, turning around. "No."

Jack stopped digging and glanced around. When he saw Daniel, he stood up straight, fist clenched around the handle of the shovel. He frowned, squinting at Daniel, and wiped sweat from his brow.

"Daniel?"

Daniel stepped forward. "It's me. I'm here."

Jack looked down at the hole in the ground and turned the shovel over as if inspecting it. He looked faintly embarrassed. "You were gone."

"I know. But I'm here now." Daniel took another step closer.

Jack sighed and sank the shovel into the dirt, lifting and tossing aside another mound of earth.

"Please," Daniel said. "Don't do that. You don't need to."

Jack kept digging. Finally he paused, scrubbed a hand over his hair and shook his head. "You could give me a hand here, you know. Make yourself useful."

Daniel winced. He glanced back at the white shape in the grass, wanting it to go away. "That's not me, you know. It really isn't."

Jack stuck the shovel into the ground upright and glared at him. "I know who it is. You're gone. You left."

Daniel came closer. He nodded once. "I left. But I'm here now. I just... wanted to see you."

Jack stared at him, wary tension gradually fading from his face. "Why?" he asked.

Daniel shrugged a little, hands still buried in his pockets. He was tempted to hug Jack, squeeze him until he could pretend he could feel it. He cocked his head. "Why do you think?"

Jack furrowed his brow for a moment. He looked back over his shoulder, at the body in white, then at the hole in the ground. Finally he looked at Daniel closely, examining him. "Oh," he said, in his very Jack-like way, the way he said it when he had just caught on. The urge to hug him almost overwhelmed Daniel.

Jack walked away, slowly, through the tall grass, and Daniel followed. There was a lake ahead, perfectly clear and still. Jack plucked a blade of grass and toyed with it as he walked. "I guess this is a dream, huh?"

"Yeah."

Jack cast him a sidelong look. "Yours or mine?"

Daniel smiled a little. "Yours."

Jack looked around and nodded. "Yeah."

They reached the lake and Jack sat down on a tree stump, twirling the blade of grass. Daniel sat down on the ground next to him. Jack watched the lake, and Daniel watched Jack. Maybe this had been a mistake, because the craving was worse now. And really, he wanted to tell Jack he loved him, but Jack was being so... so Jack.

Maybe it was a test from Oma after all. Daniel thought about leaving, but that seemed like an even bigger jackass fool thing to do.

Jack looked down at him and almost smiled. He reached out and brushed Daniel's hair back from his forehead. Daniel couldn't feel it, not exactly, not like he would have before. Daniel smiled up at him and leaned over, resting his head on Jack's lap. He rubbed Jack's bad knee, even though in Jack's dream it was a perfectly healthy knee again.

"I hate that you're gone," Jack said.

"I know." Daniel massaged Jack's leg before working on the knee again.

Jack touched the tip of Daniel's nose with the blade of grass. Daniel looked up at him. Jack was grim, serious. The blade of grass disappeared and Jack touched Daniel's cheek with his fingertips. Daniel sat up and rested his hand on Jack's neck. It didn't feel like anything. It wasn't warm or breathing. Or maybe it was him who wasn't warm, breathing. Maybe it was him who felt like nothing.

Jack ran his fingertips along Daniel's cheekbone. "I wish you were here."

"I am here," Daniel said, leaning in to kiss him. An insubstantial kiss, one energy to another, and Jack returned it.

Daniel eased back into the grass, and Jack sank down over him, repeating, "I wish you were here."

"I am." Daniel kissed him again. "I am."

And in the grass, Daniel felt Jack's energy as they made love. Insubstantial and flowing.

Afterward Daniel stroked Jack's hair as they lay together. But the lake was fading, and the sky was turning pale, and the grass began to disappear. Daniel clutched Jack briefly, and he could almost feel it this time, before Jack pulled away, dressed again.

"I wish you were here," Jack said, staring off into the distance.

Daniel glanced back and saw in the grey remains of the grass a body wrapped in white. He sat up and reached for Jack, pulled him into a brief hug.

"Don't go this time," Jack sighed, hugging him back and patting his shoulders. "Daniel."

And then everything was gone, and Daniel rose up into the night over Jack's house. Pushing himself on into the deep dead space of the universe, before he could sink back down and stay here forever, waiting for Jack to dream.

\-----

"Daniel."

Jack opened one eye and frowned. Had he just said that in his sleep? Was this ever going to be over?

He rolled onto his back and let his eyes adjust to the gloom before he sat up in bed. The universe was playing with him, giving him everything he wanted in a dream just so he could wake up.

Everything he wanted? Yeah, that was about right. The specifics were fading now, but that lingering feeling of being held and being wanted stayed with him, deep inside as well as on the surface of his skin. Everywhere, unshakeable. Like Daniel wouldn't let him go.

Hmmm. Now there was a thought. It would fit Daniel's stubbornness. Jack looked around the darkened room.

"Daniel?" he said, annoyed at how tentatively hopeful he sounded. He waited in the silence.

Okay, nah. That had been silly. Daniel wasn't a ghost. He was... some glowy energy being. And he was gone.

It was just as well they were flying down to Antarctica today, Jack thought as gave up on sleep and got out of bed. A change of scenery would do him good, distract his mind, exhaust him past the point of dreams.

He ran the hot water for his shower and stared at the streams hitting the tiled wall. This was so strange. He felt better this morning than he had in a long time, despite the ever-present ache, despite the residual anger. It didn't make any sense.

He stepped into the tub and stood under the hot spray, let it seep into his skin, cover him and drench him. Bring him warmth that was almost but nothing like the warmth he'd felt when he'd woken up. Pretend that the water held him.

By the time he finished showering, he couldn't remember the dream except in faint echoes of feeling lingering on the periphery of his awareness. It unsettled him, yet he felt comforted by it all the same.

\-----

Was this crossing a line?

Jack was awake, Jack was aware. But screw it. This was too important, and surely the Others could understand that. Surely Oma would understand that. Jack was good and kind and generous and smart and strong. Jack could save the world -- hell, the universe if he had to. Jack was all those things -- a bigger than life hero, almost -- wrapped up in this funny, smartass, tough, grouchy, broken in package. No way Daniel was going to sit back and let this happen.

So here he was, crossing a line. And Jack threw a shoe at him. Figured.

Crossing a line only to be useless. Was this really how the Others lived? Connected to everything at once, but disconnected from reality, which played out in horrific detail: Baal casting a knife through Jack's eye, Baal pouring acid into Jack's skin, Baal bleeding Jack to death, cutting him open, slicing him, impaling him... Over and over and over again.

How could the alternative -- any alternative -- be worse than this?

"I'd do it for you," Jack said.

Jack had done it for him. Jack had let him go, had put a stop to the pain. Daniel hovered over the cell, energy burning, gathering his strength.

He couldn't do it. If he killed Jack now, Jack would simply die and become a rotting corpse. Disintegrate into dust. All that strength and generosity and good would become atomic particles and chemical interactions. Dust returning to a universe that didn't care. Maybe that's how the Others disconnected, became so indifferent -- they killed their loved ones.

Daniel dissipated through Baal's compound. He was selfish, and sorry, and Jack would never forgive him, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't take that life, it meant too much, it was still a part of his own.

Jack called for him. Daniel concentrated himself over the torture chamber and saw Baal touching his various instruments of death, saw Jack helpless against the gravity screen. And in an instant, Daniel was afire. Jack's life he couldn't take, but there was another option.

He could unleash his anger. Drive a lightning bolt between Baal's eyes. Make that motherfucker kneel before him and beg for mercy while Daniel screwed his brain with thunder and peeled his skin off by turning it to dust. Level this hellhole to the ground and bury that parasitic worm underneath it, then pour the heat of a thousand suns into the core of the planet and blow it to pieces. Leave nothing alive here. Destroy everything, and leave a gaping wound in the universe where this hell had been.

"Daniel," Jack whispered. Just barely holding on, just barely keeping it together. About to fall, and Daniel couldn't catch him.

Daniel dissipated and rose quickly out of the compound. He could have done it, could have unleashed his energy in an orgy of destruction. A very fine line, Oma had said. Did it make a difference that he would have done it for love? He wasn't sure, and that unnerved him.

He was selfish, and sorry, and Jack would never forgive him for leaving, but there had to be another way, and the only way Daniel could see that wasn't going to rip him apart was not on this planet.

It was a fine line. What scared him was that the next line might be invisible.

\-----

"Daniel," Jack said into sky as he fell.

He'd been dropped from a fighter jet heading into space and he was falling to Earth. A long freefall that was exhilarating even though he knew what was at the end. He didn't know why he said Daniel's name. It seemed to be the thing to say.

And then he was on the ground, and he wasn't dead. Daniel was standing there in front of him, holding out his hand. Jack took it, and Daniel pulled him up.

Jack looked Daniel over. Same sweater, same pants.

"This is a dream, isn't it?" He let go of Daniel's hand.

"Yeah." Daniel looked around at the dry, brittle landscape surrounding them.

Jack reached down to brush the dust off his flight suit and saw that he was naked. Yeah, well, sometimes that happened in the freefall dream and it probably had some Freudian significance Jack was better off not knowing. He stood up straight and caught the faintest hint of a smile before Daniel was back to looking serious.

Jack started walking toward an indistinct line buildings up ahead. "I guess your kind don't dream."

"No."

Jack stopped and turned around and looked at him. Daniel gazed at him steadily. He looked concerned, maybe even a little worried, but calm. Like he'd accepted something important and was going to see it through. Jack had forgotten how much he missed seeing that look.

Daniel said, "I wanted to say... I wanted to tell you, I don't think I'll see you again."

Jack sucked in a breath and thought of ways to wake himself up. He'd lived this nightmare. He didn't need to dream it as well. He must still be in the infirmary, pumped with drugs, and this was a bad trip.

"Yeah, I think we already covered that earlier," he said, looking past Daniel at the brown, empty land. "You've got your journey, I've got mine."

"I know, I know," said Daniel, sounding too much like the old Daniel, the Daniel who'd had breath and warmth and substance. "But this time it's more than..." He stopped and shook his head a little. "I shouldn't be here like this. It's just... I love you, Jack. And you're hard to let go of."

Jack met his eyes again. So clear and distinct. This dream was too real. "So don't let go," Jack said quietly.

Daniel smiled a little. "If you only knew," he said, half to himself.

Knew what, Jack wondered, but it was no use asking. This was Daniel.

Daniel's smile faded. "I guess what I'm saying is that I have to stay on that journey. I have to figure it out."

"Well," said Jack, looking around again, because looking at Daniel made him ache. "I guess that's us. We don't let go easily."

He resumed walking toward the buildings, and Daniel fell into step beside him. The ground was flat and dusty and although they covered some distance, the buildings never seemed any nearer.

"For the record," Jack said after a while, "you know I love you, too. I can say it, 'cause it's my dream, and I'm naked, and what the hell."

Daniel was silent for so long that Jack stopped again and looked at him. Daniel smiled a little. "What the hell," he agreed.

Jack reached over to touch his cheek, but as he did so, the land began turning grey then white, and somewhere behind them a voice was calling him, "Colonel." The dream was ending.

He wanted to hold on so badly, not wake up yet, and be here with Daniel in this insubstantial non-reality. Just a little while longer. A few moments more.

The dry, dusty landscape faded.

Jack woke up in the infirmary and saw a nurse heading off to get Doctor Fraiser. He remembered wanting to stay asleep, stay inside a dream, but he couldn't remember why. He turned his head and for a moment he expected Daniel to be there, standing at the bedside and watching over him.

But Daniel was gone.

(the end)


End file.
